RPF
by DizzyDrea
Summary: Castle's doing research, and Beckett is surprised at what he's willing to call research.


Title: RPF  
>Author: DizzyDrea<br>Summary: Castle's doing research, and Beckett is surprised at what he's willing to call research.  
>Rating: T<br>Spoilers: Nothing specific (takes place after An Embarrassment of Bitches)  
>Author's Notes: So, I've had somewhat difficult week, to say the least. I got my very first flame. Being the sort of person I am, I expected to be upset, disappointed and never want to write again. Crazy as it seems, none of that happened. Instead, this happened. Go figure. The title is a reference to that sub-genre of fanfiction called Real Person Fiction—RPF. From Castle and Beckett's perspective, what we write is RPF, so that's what this story is built on. Get it? I hope so, because I don't know if I can explain it again—might give me a headache. This story is a tribute and thank you to all the fabulous writers I've been reading lately. If I've left a review on your story, then you know who you are. I try to share my love of your work, but if I haven't yet reviewed, please know I still appreciate the talent you share with the rest of us.<br>Disclaimer: Castle is the property of ABC, ABC Studios, Beacon Productions, Andrew Marlowe and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Kate Beckett needed coffee. This, by itself, was not unusual. She'd often joked with her previous partner that without coffee, the New York Police Department would cease to function. And never was this truer than on a Saturday afternoon.

She wandered into the break room, mug in hand, prepared to do battle with the espresso machine in order to acquire that extra jolt of caffeine that would get her through the rest of the paperwork mocking her from her inbox.

As she entered the room, she caught sight of Richard Castle, sitting on the couch focused intently on his iPad. She stopped, taking the opportunity to just watch him for a moment. He was dressed casually today, soft, worn jeans and one of those dreadful plaid button downs that he seemed to like. His hair, normally perfectly coiffed, had an air of I-just-got-out-of-bed messiness that did interesting things to her insides.

But it was his face that caught her attention. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes that, while familiar, never failed to make her heart skip a beat. Or two. And though he wasn't old, not by any reasonable definition of the word—because if he was old, what was she?—she liked that the creases at his eyes and across his forehead seemed to melt away when he was into something really good.

Setting her cup down on the counter, she moved behind him, leaning over his shoulder, trying to get a look at whatever had so thoroughly caught his attention. Her eyes scanned over the page, her lips so close to his ear that she'd only have to flick her tongue out to touch it. If he knew she was there, he wasn't showing it.

She shook herself mentally, redirecting her mind from thoughts best left alone. The words on the screen began to tumble into her brain, and her eyes went wide.

"Oh my god! I didn't even know that was possible!"

Castle merely chuckled. "And that's not the half of it. You should have been here a few minutes ago."

Kate straightened up, staring a hole into the top of his head. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing much," he said, shrugging as he leaned back to catch her gaze. "Just a little fanfiction."

"Fanfiction?" she asked with disdain. "Really, Castle? There's a mountain of paperwork on my desk—paperwork that you offered to help with, I might add—and you're in here reading fanfiction?"

"It's not just any fanfiction though, Kate," he said, shifting sideways so he could look at her more directly. "It's RPF. Real Person Fiction."

"Real person?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Which real person are they writing about?"

Castle shifted uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny, as though he'd just now realized what kind of trouble he might be in. Kate smiled, more pleased that she'd like to admit that she was still able to do that to him. For a while, she'd thought she'd lost her touch.

"They're, ah, writing about us."

"Us," she said. "As in you and me."

Castle nodded his head, and she thought that, at that point, maybe he was honestly afraid to speak.

"Why do people even do that?" she asked, completely mystified. "And why are _you_ even reading it?"

"Research."

She blinked, sure she'd heard him wrong. "Research." She tipped her head to one side. "What the hell kind of answer is 'research'?"

"These people are incredibly creative, Kate," he said, and she could see the genuine enthusiasm for his subject building in his eyes, in his smile, in the way he turned to face her. "I mean, I've never even heard of some of these sexual positions before."

"I hope you don't expect me to—" she pointed at the iPad, wiggling her finger because she was unable to even put _that_ into words. "I mean, I'm not even sure that's physically possible."

"Oh, it's possible," he said, the grin nearly stretching off his face.

"Not even going to ask," she muttered. She flicked her eyes back to the screen, then met his gaze once more. "So, research?"

"For Nikki Heat. I have to keep it fresh," he said, as if it should have been obvious to her.

And it probably should have been. He was the kind of writer that researched every possible angle before he wrote his novels. It just wouldn't be like him to not research this, too.

"I'd have expected you to be reading the Kama Sutra," she said, regretting the comment the instant it leaped from her lips.

Castle's grin only grew, becoming even more sexy, if that were possible. "Oh, I've read the Kama Sutra. Cover to cover. Interesting read, if you have the time."

"Let me guess, you read it solely for research, right?"

"Of course," he said, winking. "Actually, fanfiction is a much better source for ideas than that dusty old volume any day of the week. Some of these writers are actually quite talented. It's a shame they can't get paid for what they do."

Kate glanced at the iPad again, but the screen had gone dark. "I don't know. That was pretty out there. I mean, do people really do that?"

"That's nothing," he said, smiling. He picked up the tablet and tapped a few times on the screen, then turned it around and handed it to her. "Read this."

Kate took the tablet and turned around, leaning against the couch as she scanned down the page. Her eyes grew with each line, a blush creeping up her neck and over her face as her imagination supplied pictures of what she was reading. It was hot; hotter than anything she'd ever experienced in person, and her sexual history hadn't exactly been vanilla.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed at the same moment that Castle brushed against her thigh.

She jumped, overbalanced, and tumbled backward onto the couch, landing in a heap right on top of him, the iPad clattering uselessly to the floor.

The first thing she noticed was that she'd landed with her body perfectly aligned to his, her curves fitting precisely against the planes of his body as if they'd been made for each other. That knowledge sent a flash of arousal racing through her, deepening the flush in her cheeks.

The second thing she noticed was that Richard Castle was hard. She could feel him poking into her hip, and she involuntarily ground down into him, her body seeking friction without her permission. His eyes slammed shut, and she pulled her hips back, just slightly, enough to relieve the pressure to both their groins. However, she couldn't make herself get up. Not yet. Not ever, maybe.

The third thing she noticed was that his lips were just a whisper away from hers. It would be so easy for him to kiss her right then, and she was surprised that he hadn't. Her eyes flicked up to his, and she found him watching her, waiting to see what she'd do.

It hit her then, the reality of their situation. Not the position they were in, because how could she have missed that? No, she recognized what was really going on between them. The dynamic they'd created—she'd created, she amended, because the truth was, he was waiting for her. He'd always been waiting for her.

She could do it, she knew she could. Lean in and kiss him; take his lips in a searing kiss so hot, so deep, so encompassing that they would both lose touch with anything and everything but each other and that kiss. But that would be physical, and while physical had its appeal, she knew she wanted more than that from him. With him.

She didn't want to satisfy a momentary lust; she wanted the whole package with him. He was waiting for her, and suddenly she wanted to be worthy of the faith and trust he'd placed in her.

Slowly, carefully so as not to damage anything vital, she pushed back, levering herself up into a sitting position. Castle scooted back until he was sitting against the arm of the couch, his eyebrow raised. She raised hers in answer, letting a tiny smile tease at her lips. His answering grin was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day.

She wasn't sure what had just passed between them, but she was sure that it was significant. On a Saturday in January in the 12th Precinct break room. Will wonders never cease?

She watched as he leaned over the couch, retrieving the iPad from the floor. He tapped a few times on the screen, flicking his eyes up to meet hers every once in a while, that same knowing smile plastered on his face.

"Whatcha doing, Castle?" she asked in that playground singsong she hadn't used since fifth grade. It was amazing the juvenile behavior he could bring out in her.

With a last flourish, he raised his gaze to hers. "Saving that one for later."

His wink nearly stopped her heart. A slow, sultry smile spread over her face as she crawled over to him, her mouth at his ear, her words a whisper of breath over the sensitive shell.

"Don't lose it," she whispered, feeling him shudder beneath her. "We may need to refer back to that."

Then she crawled up off the couch and grabbed her mug, refilling it with regular coffee before heading for her desk. She stopped in the doorway, glancing back to find Castle still sitting in the same place. She could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, and knew that he was trying his best to regain control.

A smug smile formed on her face, knowing she'd done that to him. When she finally reached her desk, she picked up her phone and left herself a reminder. She wasn't above doing a little research herself. You know, just in case.

~Finis


End file.
